Sunday, November 18, 2012

FABULOUS UGG BOOTS HERE!

Judging by the amount of traffic this blog receives from unusual sources, womankind is obsessed with footwear. Specifically, Ugg boots. Women, the spammadores seem to suggest, cannot imagine existence without an endless supply of ugly Australian sheepbanger boots. Life would be unbearable, devoid of the comfortable and extremely smelly footgear which are the antipodes only claim to fame!
How horrible! No Uggs!

This blogger finds that hard to believe. Not only is Australia also famous for other things (Spaghetti sandwiches, Chateau Chunder Zinfandel, and Vegemite, inter alia), but I personally know many women who would not be caught dead wearing Uggs.
And yes, you've guessed rightly, none of them are blonde.

Not that I have anything AGAINST blondes.
Some of the nicest people are that way.
One can only feel sorry for them.


AN UGGSTREME OPINION

Real women do NOT purchase Ugg boots. Not in a million years. People who wear Uggs are either Australian sheepbangers, possibly flatulent from eating too many spaghetti sandwiches, with vegemite and faux zinfandel, OR they are slut monsters from very bad places, in all likelihood the Midwest or Holland. Low morals, base tastes, absent any ethical AND aesthetical considerations, probably near-illiterate, with extremely dubious mating habits, addictions to shopping, cheap wine, and sports-watching men, and garish multi-hued nailpolish and eye-shadow.

Ugg-wearing women are not the kind you bring home to mother.
Nor do you wish to be seen with them in your favourite bars, clubs, intimate little restaurants, hip bistros, or Chinatown noodle houses.

Judging by the texts of many Ugg outlets who have tried seeding the comments section here -- mistakenly entering their adds into the field titled 'LETTERBOX' -- they are all of the above, plus Dutch. Netherlanders. Very stupid merchants garbling the very fine language of Vondel, Brederode, and Willem Godschalk Van Fockenbrock.
De originele 'domme blondjes'.


In English, the word 'ugg' sounds like an exclamation you would utter after stepping in sheep do. In Dutch, it sounds like a grunt during unpleasant sexual activity.
I think it's German.
Upstanding women do not engage in unpleasant sexual activity, rarely step in dung, and do not wear Uggs.

Instead, they read Vondel (not a bad poet, by any means), Brederode (a splendid versifier and wicked playwright), and Willem Godschalk Van Fockenbrock.

No one should eat spaghetti sandwiches and vegemite, either or both washed down with bucketfulls of mediocre antipodean zinfy.
It's what should be upchucked into Uggs.
Go on, heave! There's room a-plenty.
Your sheepbanger won't notice.
It smells just like him.


This post is lovingly dedicated to everyone who sells Uggs, wears them, or has an unspeakable fetish for feet garbed in them.
I love you guys.


AFTER WORD

If you are a girl who despises Uggs, reads obscure authors and poets, and likes intimate little restaurants and bistros, drop me a line.
We can go have noodles in Chinatown.
You know how to contact me.
It's called "letterbox".
See below.



==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================

1 comment:

Guess where I'm from, mate said...

Hey, don't forget the fucking vegemite.

Aussies are a bunch of Wallaby humpers.
And poltroons.
Syphilitic.

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